For You
by ZePuKa
Summary: Years of rejection & neglect had taught Adrien that he was unlovable, and his affections a bother. All he ever wished for was for someone to acknowledge his attempts, even if they didn't feel the same. When he felt himself drawn to a certain kind & bluebell-eyed classmate, he dared not reveal himself for fear of her response being the same as everyone else's. Day 15 of MarichatMay.
1. For You

**Opening Remarks**

This one-shot is my submission for day 15 of **MariChat May: Something Sweet**!

Many thanks to _Tuvstarr's lost heart (Author ID: 5179633) _ for beta-reading this for me and for the help on the summary! Be sure to check out some of her work when you get the chance!

* * *

 **For You**

"For you, Adrien."

Pushing himself up off the grass where he had been playing, Adrien ran towards his mother as fast as his spindly six-year-old legs could take him. Reaching his destination, he greedily grasped the proffered sweet. Drooling in anticipation, he sunk his teeth in it and savored the first bite of the soft macaroon, eyes closing in satisfaction. A soft giggle tugged his eyelids open to look for the source, where they settled on his mother, who looked like she was enjoying herself as much as he was enjoying his snack, even though she was empty-handed. Perplexed as to her behavior, the child ceased his chewing to silently inquire as to what was funny with a tilt of his head.

"Are you enjoying your snack?" his mother asked, voice laced with the remnants of her laughter.

Adrien nodded dumbly, still not sure what was so humorous. However, another realization soon took his mind down a completely different track. "But _Maman_ , where's yours?"

"I only got one, _mon minet_ ; I don't need any."

Looking back and forth between his partially-eaten macaroon and his mother, Adrien seemed to struggle internally before ultimately staring intently at the sweet. With a determined grunt, his slender fingers gripped each edge of the pastry, and he pulled until it tore in two. With a self-satisfied grin plastered across his face, Adrien held up the half in his right hand to his mother and proclaimed excitedly, "For you!"

"Oh, you're such a sweet boy, Adrien, but your _Maman_ can't eat a lot of sugar right now." His _Maman_ replied apologetically, gently pushing his hand back to himself. Dejectedly, he ate the rest of it himself, sad that his mother couldn't experience the same sensation he was enjoying. Eyes downcast in disappointment, a splash of purple caught his eye.

" _Maman taught me that flower! It's a Gourdon! She loves them!"_ he recalled to himself. Dashing off across the lawn once more, Adrien hastily plucked the flower and presented it to his mother. "For you!" he cried again, this time more earnest than the last, hoping his gift would not be rejected this time.

"Oh, thank you! I love it," she replied, taking the blossom from his hand.

Pleased with himself for finally succeeding, he turned to return to his toy trucks waiting for him in the grass, but he felt a tug on his arm.

"Adrien, I love the flower, but I want to make sure you understand something. Can you listen very carefully to what I'm about to say?"

Confused, Adrien nodded slowly, wondering if perhaps he had done something wrong.

Reading his expression, she smiled softly and affirmed, "Don't worry; you're not in trouble. I just wanted you to understand that just because someone gives you something doesn't mean you have to give them something in return."

"You… you don't like the flower?" Adrien asked quietly, saddened by the news. He had wanted so badly to give a good gift.

"I didn't lie earlier; I love the flower! I just don't need to get something every time I give you something. I give you things and do things for you because I love you. True love expects nothing in return and keeps on giving even when they continue to not receive anything back. I just want you to understand that, sweetie."

Pondering her words for a moment, but still not really sure how to process it, Adrien protested, "But… I WANT to give you things too!"

With a tender smile, his mother took his small hands in her own warm ones and asked, "and why do you want to give me things, _mon petit chou_?"

"Um," the child thought, biting his lip as he did so. Giving was something he just did, wasn't it? But there was always a feeling involved too… wanting her to taste the same things he did, see the same pretty things he did… "I… I think it's because I like you and I want you to be happy too!"

Beaming at her son, the woman released his hands and ruffled his hair affectionately as she replied, "So long as you're doing it because you love me then that's okay. I just don't want you feeling like you have to because I do."

"Don't worry, _Maman_! I'll still give you flowers even on days you don't feed me!" Adrien declared with conviction, face drawn in seriousness.

Eyes widening in surprise, it took a moment before she reacted, bursting out in laughter. Once she was able to regain composure, she cupped his face and replied, "First off, I'll never NOT feed you, but I'm happy to know you love me as much as I love you!"

* * *

"For you, Papa!" Adrien happily presented the shiny coin he'd found on the sidewalk proudly.

"Put that down, Adrien; you don't know where it's been," his father instructed coldly.

Adrien did as he was told, smile melting into a disappointed frown as he did so.

* * *

Beaming up at his father with face smudged in evidence of his efforts, Adrien cried, "Look, Papa! I made a mud pie for you!"

"Adrien! You'll stain the rug! Throw that filth out immediately!" His father yelled indignantly, following up with an interrogation, "Who let you play out in the rain in the first place? I'm going to have to arrange a talk with your mother. Now go get yourself washed up; you're repulsively dirty!"

Adrien told himself it was the dirt stinging his eyes, resolutely refusing to let his tears fall.

* * *

"Pa- … _Pere_ , I-I made this for you…" Adrien murmured, hesitantly presenting the model airplane with his adolescent hands outstretched. It had taken him days and several failed attempts, but he'd finally managed to assemble one. He had gone through three attempts before he'd finally managed it. Good thing too, for he only had two left in the kit he'd received for his tenth birthday. He was immensely proud of his accomplishment, but he did not dare to show it.

"I see." Was all Mr. Agreste said, inspecting the toy from a distance. When Adrien held the plane out a little further, the man reluctantly took it, but Adrien was nonetheless ecstatic that his father had accepted it.

"Hm… the wing is bent. See that next time you attempt such a craft, you don't make the same mistake." The man stated simply before handing the model off to his assistant. "Nathalie, find somewhere suitable for that thing."

Adrien tried to hide the weight of the crushing disappointment with a fake smile at his efforts having been accepted, only to be tossed away, but he still had to hang his head to hide the hurt in his eyes.

* * *

" _Pere_ …" Adrien hazarded, tentatively approaching the man who sat imposingly behind a large desk, mulling over his work.

'Mr. Gabriel Agreste', as it said on his desk plaque, hummed curtly, not even sparing his son a complete word.

"Erm… I was just wondering," the teenager mumbled, his hand nervously scratching the back of his neck. He wasn't quite sure where to focus his eyes, as his father wasn't providing a means of eye contact, his own pouring over the designs for an upcoming deadline.

"Adrien, I'm a very busy man. I'm sure you understand this. So if you have something to say, say it and be on your way." Mr. Agreste insisted, voice dripping with annoyance.

Biting his lip to keep his resolve, Adrien forced himself to breathe before blurting out, "I-I was wondering if there was anything I could do for you… anything at all?"

Surprised by his inquiry, Gabriel actually paused his work for a moment and looked up to meet Adrien's gaze.

Breath hitching in his throat as he anxiously awaited his father's answer, Adrien dared to hope for a real answer; he'd already gotten much farther than he'd anticipated, for he had his father's full attention!

"Adrien… What could you possibly do for me?"

The question felt like a punch to his gut, the implications certainly not lost on him. He was worthless. His father had no use for him.

Rubbing salt in the wound, Mr. Agreste followed up with, "The best thing you can do right now is to occupy yourself with your studies so I can focus on my work. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm already behind on these approvals."

* * *

So Adrien did just that. From his schooling to his part-time work modeling for his father's company, he threw his all into each task, achieving the top scores, rectifying his mistakes, and honing his skills. No longer did he badger his father, presenting him with gifts or unsolicited favors. It finally dawned on him that his father found Adrien's attempts annoying and unacceptable. His father simply saw no value in such things. Instead, Adrien hung his hopes on his achievements, thinking that perhaps the next full mark, the next promotion, the next goal met, or the next word of praise from his instructors would finally turn his father's head.

When he was posing for the cameras, his only thought was, _"This is for you, Father."_

When he was performing a piano concerto, the thought that fueled his frenzied fingers as they drummed out the tune was, _"For you, Father…"_

When he was exhausted, sweaty, and close to the breaking point in a fencing match, the thought that kept him going was, _"It's all for you, Father, so please…"_

When his head was swimming with the next batch of Mandarin vocabulary for his upcoming Chinese test, the thought that effectively cleared his head and helped him focus was, _"Wei ni… For you… For you…"_

He told himself the silence was fine. After all, it was a step up from outright rejection. He tried to convince himself that he didn't need his father's approval. After all, like his mother had once said, _"True love doesn't expect anything in return."_ He tried to get himself to believe that… really, he did… so why did he still feel this way? Did he not truly love his father?

The answer came to him clearly as he was studying for a French history exam. It wasn't that he didn't love his father. He did, unconditionally, by his mother's definition. He really didn't expect his father's love or even approval in return. No, the one thing he wanted wasn't a token of affection to assure him that his feelings were reciprocated… All he wanted was a simple affirmation. All he wished was for his father to acknowledge that he heard Adrien's cries, however silent they were now… cries of, _"For you… For you… FOR YOU!"_ that he screamed internally while completing each task his father gave him.

" _Just please acknowledge that you know I love you."_

* * *

Adrien hit an all-time low when his mother vanished without a trace. It was around that time that he started entertaining the thought that he was simply unlovable. Hence it was with great surprise that when his birthday came around a few months later, he received a gift from his father.

Not that he hadn't received birthday gifts from his father before; it was just that they could hardly be classified as a 'gift'. With how much money his father made, as evidenced by the mansion in which they resided, one would think that the man would put a little more effort into a birthday gift for his son. Adrien didn't even want an expensive gift, just one that indicated that he was thought of. You know, a present that says _, "Hey, you, I'm happy you're alive."_ Instead, he always received a pen for his birthday.

He'd even be happy with a pen if he knew it was given for good reason. A pen given in some situations could say something encouraging, like, _"Hey, you, I noticed your pens were all pretty drab; here's a nice one!"_ or, _"Hey, you, I got you a -personalized- pen so you'll think of me whenever you do your homework…"_ or even, _"Hey, you… You write good."_ However, Adrien knew the message behind the pens he received was: _"Work harder."_

This birthday was different, and Adrien couldn't help but marvel in shock at the scarf he now held in his hands. The baby-blue knit felt soft between his fingers, and he knew at first glance that it had been meticulously hand-made; he'd worked in the fashion industry long enough to tell the difference. Of course, his father hadn't made it himself or anything, but the fact that he'd taken the effort to have one commissioned left him speechless. If only his father had actually been there to present it himself. Adrien thanked Nathalie for delivering the gift and asked her to pass on his thanks, restraining the urge to pinch himself to make sure this was all real.

" _For me…"_ he thought, over and over, floored by the realization. His father had picked out a gift _for him._ This was progress – HUGE progress! Adrien visibly brightened with the realization, hope once again taking root in the soil that had been left barren when his mother left him.

* * *

With great anticipation and trepidation, Adrien paced the floor in front of his father's office, waiting to be admitted. He was taking a risk; he knew, but his birthday a few months ago had lit a flame that he couldn't quell, so he had decided to deliver a gift to his father for his birthday in person this year. He'd become accustomed to leaving the gifts with Nathalie each year, for his father dearly hated being interrupted.

Fingers nervously drumming the carefully wrapped package, the teen focused his energy on maintaining a steady rhythm of breathing in and out so that he would not hyperventilate.

At last, the moment came and his father granted permission to enter.

Forcing his anxiety down with a gulp, Adrien cautiously approached the desk, gift-wrapped box behind his back. He tentatively tried to catch his father's eye, but as always, he remained focused on the screens and papers scattered across his workspace.

Clearing his throat, Adrien drummed up his courage and forced himself to speak quickly, for he knew his father didn't tolerate tarrying, "I… Happy birthday, Father. I-I got this for you." Holding out the box, he instinctively retreated a step back as his father grasped it. He twiddled his thumbs in apprehension as the man unwrapped and opened the box, revealing the red scarf Adrien had lovingly placed inside. It wasn't hand-made like his own, but when he saw it in the store, he had thought that the style was rather complimentary to the blue one he'd received on his own birthday, so he'd gotten it. He couldn't help but bite his lip as worry crept up to smother him. The longer his father took to respond, the more suffocated he started to feel.

"I'm afraid I don't understand." Gabriel finally replied, staring at the scarf that still lay within the confines of the box, untouched.

"Er, I thought it kinda matched the one you got me for my birthday, though that one was blue, and this one is red…" Adrien hurriedly replied, flushing in embarrassment. He could tell already that his father didn't like the gift, and he couldn't help but revert to his old habit of nervously rubbing the back of his neck as he cast about for a way to salvage the situation. His father had gone out of his way to pick out a gift for him this year, Adrien hadn't wanted to screw this up; he had to think of a way to fix it! "I, uh, can get a different color or something if you don't like it…"

"I don't recall the scarf you say I gave you. I don't wear scarfs, too unprofessional. Thank you for the birthday wishes, but I must return to my work."

The words felt like a stab to the heart. He didn't even remember? After he'd gone and commissioned a hand-made scarf? Something didn't add up… and worse, all those feelings of outright rejection he'd tried to forget came flooding back. Now he remembered why he'd stopped being so forward with his attempts to show his affection… Silence was a kinder response than rejection.

Hardly realizing what his own body was doing, he found himself outside his father's office once more, approaching Nathalie's in a daze. He dreaded the answer to what he was about to ask, but he had to know…

"Nathalie… I need you to be completely honest with me," he pleaded, voice grave and barely above a whisper.

The secretary, usually expressionless, couldn't hide her surprise and concern at the unnatural tone in Adrien's voice as she grimly nodded her agreement.

"Where did that scarf come from? The one my father supposedly got for me?"

Her expression gave everything away, for written on it was shock, guilt, sadness, and fear.

He had hardly waited for Nathalie's full explanation before he fled, the choking sensation taking hold and overwhelming him, such that he felt he would suffocate if he stayed in this mansion even a second longer. He needed air, space, freedom, and a place to clear his mind, so he was grateful when his kwami didn't put up a fight, sensing Adrien's dire need.

Transformed as Chat Noir, Adrien fled the place he called 'home', but now, more than ever, felt was only a prison.

* * *

Letting his body guide him, Adrien paid no mind to where he was going, savoring the sensation of freedom as he breathed in the night air, cool and calming.

His thoughts were anything but, racing a mile a minute as they tried to reconcile the years of wasted effort. He tried to soothe himself as he had in the past, repeating the mantra his mother had taught him all those years ago: _"True love expects nothing in return."_

It wasn't working like it usually had, though, and no wonder… The person who'd said it proved her love for him wasn't so true after all, abandoning him like she had. He found himself suddenly spent, all strength leaving him, and he was forced to settle on a rooftop, no longer trusting himself to leap from rooftop to rooftop in his current condition. Before he could even try to compose himself, the strength left his legs completely and he sank to his knees, tears beginning to spill as the bitter truth washed over him. His mother didn't love him, his father didn't love him, and even after all his efforts, Adrien's worst fear was proven true: his father didn't merely reject Adrien's love, didn't merely remain silent in response, but was rather completely ignorant of it.

His thoughts spiraled from there, questioning everything he thought he knew as he despaired. He was alone in the world, desperately trying to show his feelings for the people he cared about – his mother, his father, Ladybug…. but was never heard no matter how much he gave of himself. He never expected anything in return; just an acknowledgement that they had heard him, so why….?

A sudden flash of light caught his attention and he turned his head to see a familiar balcony. Somehow, he had ended up on an adjacent rooftop overhanging the building that bore the name: "T&S Bakery" - the home of his classmate, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The girl had emerged from the hatch landing and had plugged in the strand of paper lanterns to light her path as she took a watering can to her rooftop garden.

He watched as she went about her work and noted that she seemed happy. He had often found himself jealous of the girl, for she seemed to have a happy family and was well-loved by them and her friends. However now, he contemplated her in light of his new knowledge. It had been Marinette who had made him that scarf for his birthday. It had been Marinette's name that was ripped off the package before it was presented to him as a substitute for the birthday present his father _didn't_ get him. It would have been easy for Marinette to rectify the situation when he had proudly worn the scarf to school the day after his birthday. After all, she and Alya had asked how he liked it, and in his answer, he had blabbed about how excited he had been to get it from his father. Yet Marinette had stayed silent on the matter despite having every right to correct his knowledge. All she'd done was smile warmly at him, empathizing with his happiness that day.

" _True love expects nothing in return…"_ The words returned, unbidden, to his mind, but rather than propelling him into hopelessness like they had minutes ago, he found himself entertaining a flicker of hope once more. Marinette may or may not have expected something in return for her gift, like a 'Thank you.', but regardless of her expectation, she _accepted_ nothing in return, and instead chose what she thought would make Adrien happiest. So, it _was_ possible; there were people in the world who still gave sincerely… people besides himself… He may not be so alone in the world after all.

Marinette had retreated back into her room, and Adrien found himself mesmerized by the glow that flowed out from her quarters – a beacon of hope amidst his dark outlook. He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that, drawn like a moth to the flame as he basked in the welcoming glow, but inevitably, the time came for the lights to go out for the night. Her rooftop lights remained on, however, and that's when he noticed it. One of the spokes the strand had been secured to had come loose, causing it to sag in a half-smile, which he couldn't help but think mirrored his own uncertain half-grins he often flashed as Chat Noir. The sight looked so foreign and out of place when it was on the rooftop of the girl whose smile was always warm and reassuring. It was downright wrong, hypocritical even. He _had_ to fix it. Before he had a chance to really think it over, Chat vaulted the distance between the two roofs and silently landed on the railing of her balcony, silhouette cast against the chimney in the light of the lanterns.

He stayed stock still for a moment to make sure he hadn't been heard, then cautiously crossed the threshold and deftly fixed the strand of lights so that it smiled brightly once more. He turned to go, his job done, when a bulb at the end of the strand caught his attention. Now that he was up close, he noticed that the bulb was broken. Now that simply wouldn't do. For someone who shone as brightly as Marinette, she needed a well-lit balcony. Resolving himself to fix the problem tomorrow, Adrien stealthily leapt from the roof and forced himself to return to his residence, for the hour was late.

* * *

As summer progressed, so did the heat, and as he was _casually_ passing by one evening, Chat Noir couldn't help but notice that Marinette's rooftop plants weren't fairing so well in the drought. It really wasn't any trouble to just go a few blocks out of his way to get some water from the Seine and shower the browning plants.

After some research, he decided to check in on the plants again a few days later, checking the soil first to see if they needed more water. Couldn't let that first trip go to waste, after all – follow-up was necessary to have any sort of effect.

The plants began to perk up under the steady care of Chat Noir, starting to reflect the bright and cheery demeanor of their owner. Chat found himself swelling with pride every time he passed by the blooms, feeling like he'd actually done something beneficial for the person who'd only wanted him to enjoy his birthday.

He'd taken to hanging around for a bit after watering the flowers, for he'd read that plants thrived when you spoke to them, due to the boost of carbon dioxide in one's breath it gave them. He didn't talk, for he didn't want to give away his presence, so he simply lounged and blew on them. It had never been his intention to eavesdrop, but thanks to Plagg's cat senses, he couldn't help but overhear Marinette sometimes. Usually she was muttering about her homework or some design to herself, or sometimes she'd be talking over the phone with Alya or some girl named 'Tikki'. He'd made a mental note to casually start up a conversation with Marinette in class someday to ask what speakers she was using, 'cause they were so good, he could've sworn it sounded like Tikki was in the room with her instead of coming through a speaker, but there was ever only one shadow cast from her bedroom window at these times.

He had always known Marinette was a cool person, but he learned so much more from the snippets of conversation he heard below. It seemed they had a lot in common, and he found himself drawn in by her passion for even the smallest of tasks she pursued; she always seemed to give things her all, no matter the anticipated result, and that was something he could definitely resonate with.

He wasn't sure when it happened, but at some point, the balcony had become his safe haven. Here he could escape the suffocating atmosphere of home where he barely even existed. Here he could let his thoughts roam and bask in the closeness (albeit unknown to her) of a friend. Here no one told him to stop doing things for them or told him he wasn't even capable of doing anything useful. Here was evidence that he HAD done something useful for someone. Here was someone who could possibly even care for him – not that he was ready to cross that bridge yet… He'd faced one too many rejections recently from the people he cared most about, so he continued to keep his efforts hidden, secret, and safe. One can't reject what they don't even know about, right? At least, that's what he kept telling himself… That it was better this way… that Marinette… that his father… That it was better that they didn't know what he did for them, because then he wouldn't feel their inevitable dismissal.

* * *

As summer came to an end, Chat made his routine stop on Marinette's balcony, and immediately felt that something was off. He tensed, fearing that the feeling was an indication that he was being watched… that he'd been caught. He waited for the feeling to pass before he dared to move, surveilling every angle cautiously for any observers. Once he dubbed the area clear, he finally took in his more immediate surroundings, and that's when he saw it. Atop the tea table was something new… or rather, _somethings._ A box the size of an appetizer plate sat atop the wooden surface, and adjacent, one of the teacups weighed down a neatly folded piece of rosy-pink paper.

Warily approaching the table, he noted that the box had the bakery's logo stamped on the sticker that sealed it, and a cellophane window allowed him to peer in and view the contents. Four petite macaroons of varying colors lay within, looking rather tasty in the pale light of the paper lanterns. Feeling himself begin to drool, he resisted the urge to open the box. After all, what sort of a friend would he be if he just so rudely dug into Marinette's possessions? The dear girl was notoriously scatter-brained; she'd probably had a tea party on the balcony earlier in the day and had forgotten to clean up the leftovers.

He was thus pleasantly surprised when the neatly-scripted letters written on the outer leaf of the paper caught his eye, for it read: "Chat Noir". His whole body went taught at the thought that he'd been caught, but he couldn't stop his hand from instinctively reaching out and grasping it, carefully tugging it free of the teacup.

Unfolding it with a nervous tremble in his fingers, he slowly read the contents:

 _Dear Chat Noir,_

 _It took me awhile to figure out how my balcony was being so well cared for.  
I didn't realize the dark hero of Paris was such a handyman on the side!_

 _Thank you so much! These sweets are for you.  
Fondly,  
Marinette Dupain-Cheng_

Eyes growing wide in disbelief, Chat read and re-read the letter, making sure he'd read it correctly. He especially didn't believe those two little words at the end of the body… 'For you,' they had said.

" _Is this really… for me?"_ He mused, letting the words sink in as his heart slowly absorbed them and felt their impact.

" _For me…"_

" _For me!"_

"For me!" He cried gleefully, no longer caring if he was caught, for his heart was soaring.

 _~ Fin ~_

* * *

 **Closing Remarks**

I chose **macaroons** as the 'Something Sweet' for this fic for the sole purpose of them being a symbol of friendship between Marinette and Alya in the episode _"Stoneheart"._ I just thought that Marinette sharing her only macaroon with her new friend by splitting it in half was a beautiful picture and I wanted to carry that through here. So at first I wanted to show that Adrien is of like spirit by replicating the scene, but with him and his mother. Then I wanted to end it with macaroons as well, signifying the official start of the Marichat friendship, for I imagine they start having balcony rendezvous after this since Marinette's on to his little caretaker shenanigans. I just thought they made the perfect 'for you' gift… the very first 'in return' gift the poor, affection-deprived boy has gotten.

I used a lot more French references than I have before in this fic, so here's an explanation of them all in case you missed them. I warn you that most of this knowledge was gleaned from Google, so I apologize for any errors in my understanding and/or presentation of them. If you notice any mistakes, please let me know!  
 **Maman** – Mamma  
 **Mon Minet** – My pussycat (had to use that one, 'cause you know, he's gonna be Chat Noir!)  
 **Gourdon** – A type of flower that grows natively in France and graces the city of Paris with purple blooms  
 **Mon Petite Chou** – Literally 'my little cabbage', another term of endearment for a child  
 **Pere** – Formal 'Father'. It had always struck me as odd that Adrien addressed his father as 'Pere'… so formal for a young teenager to do so, I thought. But knowing their relationship better after watching the whole season, my guess is that the way Adrien addressed his father progressed from informal and affectionate to cold and formal gradually. I thus tried to reflect that progression in this story.

I also attempted to include some of Adrien's Chinese in here… but I relied on Google translate. xD ' **Wei ni** ' is supposed to be the Chinese (I assume Mandarin) equivalent of 'For you'.

I couldn't resist the slight reference to a Mulan quote, either. **"You… You write good."** Is meant to be a pun of "You… You fight good.", when Shang attempted to compliment Mulan.

 **Adrien's birthday scarf** situation happened in the episode _"The Bubbler"._ The only parts that are original to this story are of Adrien getting his father a scarf in return and finding out that Marinette made his blue one. (Though I dearly hope he does find out at some point in the upcoming seasons.)

 **Concerning Adrien's Mother:** Since we don't have a lot of conclusive insight into her character, I made a few assumptions concerning her for the purpose of this story. I only included her in the 6-year-old scene as I didn't want to extrapolate her character into the more recent parts of Adrien's life, as I figure anyone can change over time and so if I didn't get her character right, it would still be believable that she was like this at some point, a long time ago. There's also been some questioning as to what was her motive for telling Adrien that 'True love expects nothing in return". Did she mean to prepare him for inevitable rejection by his father, and thus encourage him to persevere no matter the abuse he received? Or was she simply making sure that he didn't feel the need to always reciprocate a gift and to simply be able to accept another's love? No matter her motives, I feel like it was a lesson Adrien needed to cling to. He saw the one extreme of neglect all his life through his father… but then finally got to see the other side of the spectrum through Marinette… when it is reciprocated… and he understands how precious it is for that to happen.

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	2. Christmas Special Bonus Chapter

**Chapter Summary:** It's been a few months since they officially met on the balcony that summer night, and Chat was reluctant to celebrate Christmas together, given his dislike of the holiday, but Marinette was just so excited, how could he let her down? Especially after all the encouragement and support she'd given him, he hoped his gift would adequately convey his thankfulness... Little did he know that Marinette had a few feelings of her own to convey...

 **Author's Note:** It's a little late, but here's a special Christmas bonus chapter as a little gift for all your support of this fic! I'd like to thank everyone who appreciated, shared, and left feedback on this fanfic. It's your support that makes the countless hours researching, creating, and editing worth it! Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and happy reading!

* * *

Fingers trembling ever so slightly as he gripped the delicately wrapped package, _Chat Noir_ steadied his breathing to calm himself. Indeed, his breathing had been increasing at such a rapid rate as he leapt through the city, the residents may have mistaken him for Santa's reindeer as he left a trail of frozen breaths in his wake. Doubts swirled and his stomach churned as each leap brought him closer to the reality he had rehearsed countless times before setting out. If all went well, then by the end of the night, Marinette would be in possession of a carefully selected Christmas present, and totally not be weirded out at all by it and completely shut down their budding friendship.

As the bakery rooftop came into view, however, his nerves finally won the battle and he came to an abrupt halt. What had he been thinking? This holiday already put him on edge, and with so much at stake, why had he ever agreed to come tonight? There was no way this could work. Surely this Christmas would be no different than the last even though he was spending it with Marinette instead of his father. Surely she would wind up hating the gift and questioning why she had ever given him a chance. Goodness knows he had never been a good gift-giver. His mind recalled quite easily how his father reacted coldly to each and every gift Adrien had given throughout the years, no matter how meticulously selected, painstakingly hand-crafted, or heartfelt. Granted, his father was a difficult man to please, but even so, practice made perfect and without any feedback or direction on his presents, he couldn't hone the skill throughout the years.

 _'_ _Don't panic, Marinette's different.'_ He consoled himself, trying to still the tremor in his fingers, though he wasn't sure if the cause was his nerves or the frigid air. A few more deep breaths served to bring his thoughts into perspective, queueing up memories to prove his rebuttal that Marinette was indeed a special case. Maybe it was the memory of their first official meeting or a gust of wind, but his cat nose swore it smelled the faint traces of macaroons wafting from the bakery he now overlooked.

* * *

It had been much warmer that night as summer drew to a close, the residual heat from the setting August sun making his black suit a touch uncomfortable, but there were flowers that needed his attention. It may have been odd for one of Paris' super heroes to be prioritizing a mission of petal preservation, but the summer had been a dry one with record-breaking temperatures.

The drought had made keeping the flowers on Marinette's balcony hydrated a difficult mission, but he'd come this far and wasn't about to let the blooms die prematurely if he could help it. Besides, this mission was one of gratitude, a small way to say 'thank you' for the hand-knit, baby-blue scarf she had given him for his birthday last year. That is, the scarf she'd gotten _Adrien_.

He hadn't planned on making flower care a means of gratitude, but when he had seen the need, he just felt that it was the right thing to do. After awhile, the balcony became a place where he could relax, be himself, and just… breathe. Living in his father's house had often felt oppressive, but in the aftermath of finding out about the scarf, the air-conditioned mansion felt more suffocating with its apathetic atmosphere than the balcony did in the heat of mid-summer's day, in an all-black leather bodysuit to boot.

His haven had but one catch - Marinette didn't know he had found solace there. The only way he could escape his house was as _Chat Noir,_ so the return favor would be perceived as an unrelated favor from someone else should she ever catch him, so he had effectively protected himself from a similar rejection to those he always got from his father and Ladybug. He had wondered many a time how he would talk himself out of the situation if he was ever caught, preferably in a way that didn't paint him as an absolute creeper. So far, he'd never had to test one out. Between his heightened cat senses and a tendency to be overly cautious, he'd thus far avoided being found out.

It wasn't that he was afraid of Marinette or anything, on the contrary, he'd grown quite attached to the dear girl as he got to know her better, through more frequent conversations at school and what he happened to overhear as he tended her balcony and she talked with Alya or her pen-pal Tikki. Rather, he didn't want to lose this, his patch of heaven amidst his chaotic life. Here he thrived and here he entertained thoughts of one day gradually pushing his luck and initiating face-to-face contact with the girl who reminded him that there was still some good in the world. So he told himself that once he cooked up a good reason for being here and a conversation starter, he'd take the plunge. He told himself that, many a time… but he knew it'd never come to pass. What could he possibly have to offer Marinette when he'd already failed his own parents and his partner, Ladybug? He would without a doubt be rejected, forbidden to come back.

Imagine his surprise when he found a note from her that night, thanking him for the care he'd invested in her balcony. To top it all off, she'd left him a box of macaroons from the bakery below, and he'd been so overjoyed by this discovery that he didn't notice the sound of the roof hatch opening.

"Good evening, _Chat_!" She chirped with just a hint of hesitancy in her voice. Yelping in surprise as he turned to address her, _Chat_ nearly dropped his newly acquired sweets at her feet. There she stood, Marinette, his bluebell-eyed and cheery classmate, his scarf and macaroon beneficiary.

"H-hi!" _Chat_ barely managed to reply, voice breathy and catching in his suddenly too-dry throat. His heart was pounding far too fast as he contemplated his options, for though he had long mulled over the possibilities of how their first balcony encounter may play out, his mind was now drawing a blank and it was a miracle that he had managed to spit out any words at all.

Sensing the awkward tension, Marinette's gaze dropped to the floor and she absently played with a lock of her hair. "I see you found the macaroons."

"Y-yeah." _Chat_ nodded dumbly, mentally kicking himself for only managing another single-syllable reply.

The two stood there a moment longer, though it felt like decades. The lump in _Chat_ 's throat finally dissolved and he sputtered in one very rushed and nerve-wracking sentence, "I'm sorry I didn't ask for permission to be here or touch your stuff or talk to your flowers - I mean, eh-heh…?" Flashing a sheepish grin, Chat mentally reprimanded himself, _'Great, way to go, Chat Noir… just confirm what an absolute loser you are.'_

To his great shock and pleasure, she didn't shrink away or start beating him with the water pitcher to chase him off, but instead, she broke out into a mirthful and sincere giggle - the kind one makes when truly enjoying the company of friends. The sound calmed his spirit and eased his mind, and he couldn't help but smile, just a little, in relief.

"You know," she began, visibly relaxing as she continued, "my dad also talks to flowers; says it helps him empty his mind and organize his thoughts."

It was like a switch tripped in _Chat_ 's mind. Her laughter and calm demeanor were all it took for him to lower his guard and release the tension in his body. "He's right, you know," _Chat_ replied, placing the bakery box down on the table so he could move about freely, "you should try it sometime!"

Noting his change in disposition, Marinette further invited him to relax by striding up to one of the chairs by the table and taking a seat, looking up at him expectantly to follow suit. "I have, actually, but I think I prefer company that can hold up their end of the conversation."

Taking the seat across from her, the dark hero regained a little of his anxiety and started nervously rubbing the back of his neck as he cast about for a suitable reply. Her declaration left him a large responsibility, but he doubted he would be able to entertain her better than a flower. After all, despite his best efforts, he had failed to do so for his parents and for Ladybug. Really the only reason he found himself talking to flowers all the time was because he was able to be himself without fear of being judged by a human being - the very reason Marinette didn't like to talk to flowers was the sole reason he did.

Perhaps she read his mind, for her next words reassured him, "Which is why I wanted to put the offer on the table." At this, she held her hands out over the table they were sitting at, as though she were literally placing something tangible there - a poor attempt at a physical pun, but given his track record in the field of punnery, he appreciated the attempt. "I couldn't help but overhear sometimes when you talked to the flowers when you thought I was asleep, and it sounds like you could use a friend to listen to your troubles. I know it's forward of me, but I just wanted to let you know that if you'd like to talk, I'm willing to listen, though you're still welcome to use the flowers if you prefer their audience."

 _Chat_ 's heart seemed to skip a beat - or was time standing still? No one had offered such a thing to him before. It was more than his little heart could bear. A moment ago he thought he couldn't get any more euphoric, just by receiving a gift of food, but now, he was offered what looked like a gift a friendship. Perhaps she didn't know what was at stake, what a terrible friend he was. He was constantly unable to express successfully how he felt about people since his advances were always ignored. No doubt it would only be a matter of time before Marinette regretted her offer.

Taking his silence to be a rejection, Marinette stood abruptly and announced, "You don't have to decide right now or anything, I'll just bid you goodnight and let you enjoy your snack." Her words were soft, broken even, like the idea of him sparing her the grief of his presence would actually grieve her more. Before he could think it through, his hand had acted of its own accord and had grasped her wrist to halt her in her steps. She looked a little surprised at first, but then she flashed him that tender smile he was quickly coming to love and inquired at hardly more than a whisper's volume, "Yes?"

He hadn't thought this far ahead. Though to be fair, he hadn't thought at all, his body had acted solely of its own accord, like it had a desperate need for her presence and its healing effects. At that moment, his head caught up with what his body was doing, and it was like a fog was lifted. Basking in a newfound peace, he was confidently able to request that she join him in enjoying the sweets she had given him. It had been a little slow-going at first, but they ended up talking half the night away like they had always been the best of chums.

* * *

Marinette hummed along to the Christmas music she had playing in the background as she resisted the temptation to take a sip of the _chocolat chaud_ beside her whose sweet aroma was slowly but surely saturating the room. She couldn't afford to free her hands from their current task, which was to put the finishing touches on _Chat Noir_ 's Christmas present. She hadn't meant to procrastinate, but she had been unbelievably busy the past two days between her own family's Christmas celebration, and helping her parents down in the bakery as they helped other Parisian families' celebrations with cookies, candied chestnuts, _buche de noel_ s, and other Christmas favorites. She had made plans to meet up with _Chat Noir_ at their usual spot on the balcony late Christmas night after the rest of the city had gone to bed, exhausted from the extensive Christmas festivities over the last forty-eight hours. They hadn't exactly nailed down a specific time - they never did - but she was hoping tonight would be one of the later nights so she could finish the project. So far luck had been in her favor and all she had left to do now was wait a bit for the finishing touches to set then wrap it all up in a nice box with a ribbon.

Taking a quick break to celebrate the completion of the project, Marinette finally allowed herself to sip the _chocolat chaud_ her mother had brought up a few minutes prior along with a plate of macaroons - a fairly common practice whenever her mother saw the light from Marinette's room on this late at night. The girl was notorious for burning the midnight oil whenever a new project caught her fancy, and her mother had always been supportive and sought to make sure her daughter didn't forget nutrition by bringing up snacks and beverages. Ever since the end of summer, Marinette had occasionally dared to ask for seconds on the nights she knew _Chat Noir_ would be coming to visit, and though Sabine had seemed a little skeptical at first, she'd since grown accustomed to it and started bringing double portions every time, probably figuring that Marinette was just going through a growth spurt. Even though _Chat_ didn't come around every night, the snacks never went to waste, as he was more than happy to gobble up the leftovers whenever he did finally come around. As such, Sabine had left a carafe of the chocolate beverage with enough for two more servings.

Admiring her work, the raven-haired teen smiled at the irony. If you had told her six months ago that she would be making a gift to give to _Chat Noir_ as Marinette, she would not have believed you.

* * *

It had truly been a twist of fate that led her to take a detour that night. Usually she would've headed straight home after an evening akuma attack, but it had just so happened that when the trouble struck, she had been en route to Alya's house to pick up some things she'd forgotten there the day before. Since her parents were already accustomed to the girls getting side tracked and talking for hours, she didn't think she would be missed if she still ran her original errand, despite the fact that this particular villain had taken a longer-than-usual amount of time to defeat. The summer sky had already blackened by the time she left Alya's, so Marinette decided to take the easy way home - as Ladybug. Were it not for her heightened instincts in that form, she may never have seen the cat ears silhouetted by the dim light of her balcony lights. She halted the moment she saw him - _Chat Noir_ \- and ducked behind a chimney on a nearby rooftop. What was he doing at her house? Had he figured out her secret identity? Trying not to panic, Ladybug released her form so she could get a second opinion from her confidant.

"Tikki, what should I do!? It looks like _Chat_ came to confront me! I was so careful; I don't know how this could have happened!" Marinette despaired, biting her nails.

"Shhh, careful, Marinette. With his cat kwami, _Chat_ _Noir_ has excellent hearing! I wouldn't jump to the worst conclusion just yet though, it could just be a simple coincidence!"

"How am I supposed to find out?"

"Well I think for now you should return home as Marinette and stay downstairs with your parents for awhile while I sneak upstairs and keep an eye on him. Once he leaves, I'll give the all clear."

By the end of the night, Marinette's parents were quite impressed with her dedication, for she refused to go to bed for hours while she labored away on a sewing project. If only they realized that her nerves and dedication had less to do with artistry than it did with her preoccupation with a certain boy.

Perhaps what was more disconcerting than how long _Chat Noir_ had lingered on her roof that night was how often he seemed to do it. Once Tikki began her stake outs, it became obvious that the night they found him on her balcony was not a coincidence. In a week's time, he had stopped by three times, varying in duration from ten minutes to two hours.

"He's just waiting to ambush me, I know it!" Marinette cried after Tikki sounded the 'all clear' on the third night _Chat_ visited.

"I don't think that's the case, actually," TIkki explained, "My hearing isn't as sharp as a cat kwami's, but I was able to pick out some things. He talks pretty often when he's up there, though quite softly."

"Who else did he bring!?" the teenager demanded, eyes wide with apprehension. This stuff was getting way too creepy for her liking, and though she had faith that she could handle herself if it came down to a battle, it was no less alarming that the intruders were constantly making contact right above her bed.

"I'm not sure, but I think you should calm down, Marinette. It may just be that this location is a convenient rendezvous spot for whoever he is meeting, if he is meeting anyone at all."

"I'm not sure which I'd prefer; _Chat_ unluckily choosing my balcony for secret meetings or _Chat_ talking to himself like a crazy person on my balcony."

"This is just a theory, but, based on the snippets I've heard, he may actually be talking to your flowers…"

An awkward pause transpired as Marinette processed Tikki's theory. Finally she concluded, "...I don't see how that's any better. I mean, sure, lots of people talk to their flowers, my dad is one of them. But it doesn't take hours and it's not like he ever talks to someone _else's_ flowers."

"You have a valid point," Tikki agreed, but always one to look on the bright side of things, she suggested, "Perhaps we should give him the benefit of a doubt and set up some more precise surveillance to get a better understanding to be sure."

"I don't think I can afford to wait; how do you expect me to sleep with a potential threat above my bunk each night?"

And so they devised a plan to confront the suspected flower whisperer. Each night they'd wait, presence concealed but with a good vantage point, for the black cat to arrive. They'd agreed to wait as Ladybug, so as to be ready to pursue if he decided to flee on contact, and also so she could pull the leader card and forbid him to come to the same balcony so often. After all, since 'Ladybug' had tracked him to this address as a regular stopping point, so could the enemy.

The night he showed up, Ladybug slowly and silently approached - if he bolted, she didn't want him to get too much of a head start, so caution was a necessity. A strange thing happened when she came within earshot. A sound she hadn't expected to hear halted her in her steps. Was _Chat Noir_ actually... crying? Unsure what to do at this point, all Ladybug could do was stand still as the minutes dragged on, the unmistakable sounds of a watering can co-mingling with the sound of barely audible sniffles.

The sudden voice made her jump, thinking she'd been discovered, but all _Chat_ said was, "Well it looks like Marinette is away for the night, so I guess I can actually talk to you blossoms tonight. Fair deal for the both of us, right? You guys get your carbon dioxide and I get some baggage off my chest."

Ladybug strained to keep her breathing even and undetectable as her mind raced a mile a minute. He knew this rooftop belonged to her - that is, at least he knew it belonged to _Marinette_. He was purposely tending her garden. Didn't he think she'd notice? Why was he being so secretive about it? Why was he targeting HER garden out of all the rooftop gardens in Paris?

"You know you're lucky, being flowers. You don't have to worry about relationships at all. Don't need to worry about keeping a straight face, pretending everything is fine when it's the furthest thing from."

Taken aback by his declaration, Ladybug tried to recall if she'd noticed any sort of change in _Chat's_ behavior, and couldn't think of any red flags. To be fair though, when one is trying to capture akuma, casual conversation and demeanor interpretation isn't exactly a priority. Of course, that had never really stopped _Chat;_ he managed to keep up a steady stream of quips and puns nearly every mission. Since that didn't seem to change, perhaps this was the norm? What if his cheery disposition had always been a mask?

"You know my father doesn't even look at me when we're in the same room anymore? Apparently my 'outbursts' threaten my ability to perform well for his company... "

Ladybug was beginning to feel breathless, and she doubted it was solely from the reduced amount of oxygen she was getting by slowing her breathing. It had just never occurred to her that _Chat Noir_ was dealing with such emotional issues behind the scenes.

At that moment, she knew she couldn't carry her original objective out. Her heart was being tugged, for she couldn't imagine a life where her own father barely acknowledged her... to not get a hug and kiss goodnight, to not be given home-baked goodies 'just because', to not hear 'I love you' in a gruff but tender voice… The very thought left her feeling like her stomach was in knots and her eyes felt wet with the threat of tears. She realized that she had stumbled upon a very intimate and vulnerable moment and that she must retreat.

After that night, Marinette and Tikki had talked at length about what to do about their stray cat problem - that is, the fact that _Chat Noir_ , for whatever reason, had chosen Marinette's balcony as his getaway from the problems at home.

"What I just don't get, Tikki, is what made him choose MY balcony? He knows my name, somehow, but doesn't approach me. No matter what his personal problems are, you gotta admit that that's a little weird." Marinette argued one night.

"Maybe you did him a kindness once?" Tikki speculated, "It's not too uncommon for victims of neglect to naturally be drawn to those who have shown them even a small amount of attention and grace."

"But what if he really has found out my secret identity or something like that?"

"Well why don't you ask him the reason then?" Tikki asked point blank. The idea had seemed ridiculous to Marinette at the time, but after a while was seeming to be the right course of action. They came up with a plan to leave him a bakery gift that would serve as both gratitude and a means of distraction so that Marinette could approach him without him bolting.

* * *

The night she confronted him - as Marinette, of course - was one of the most nerve-wracking events of her entire life, but as the evening wore on, the awkwardness had melted away and a comfortable, almost familiar feeling had set in. When _Chat_ had announced that he should take his leave for the night, Marinette was surprised how much time had passed. If she had realized, she would've asked that gnawing question much sooner.

Mustering up her courage, Marinette called, "Please wait!" _Chat_ awkwardly turned at this, for he had been coiled up, about to launch himself off the balcony and into the night. Without skipping a beat, for she was worried enough as it was that all the progress she made that night getting _Chat_ to open up would be lost if she pressed her luck, but nonetheless needing to know, Marinette nervously queried, "U-um, I just wanted to know, if you're okay with me knowing, that is, I-I p-perfectly understand if you don't… uh… that is… Why did you start taking care of my balcony in the first place?" Marinette felt her cheeks heat at this, but wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because she felt like she had asked a deeply personal question? Or because she was worried sick that she may have just jeopardized all the progress she'd made that night getting _Chat_ to open up to her? Maybe both? Yeah… both seemed right. As an afterthought, she figured she should also be worried that his answer would include that he'd discovered her dual identity, but for some reason, that didn't seem to matter as much as it had before. Why was she more worried about losing this new alliance than she was about protecting her Ladybug identity?

She would never forget the response he gave, or the look on his face when he said it. On his face was written the most forlorn smile she'd ever seen and a sort of hopeful longing was in his eyes as he replied, "Because you once showed me, at a time in my life when I'd fallen into despair, that there is still light in the world. It was the greatest gift I've ever gotten, so I wanted to repay you somehow." She was left in stunned silence, and by the time she'd regained her composure, _Chat's_ silhouette was already indistinguishable from the skyline.

Ladybug never looked the same way at _Chat_ again, and as the days turned to weeks and the weeks to months, she realized that something was changing in him. He had become more relaxed somehow, and yet more distant. It was only during her times as Marinette, when _Chat_ visited the balcony, were the layers peeled back. It had been a gradual process, and understandably so, considering the hurt he'd experienced. There were also barriers that couldn't be crossed, as he was adamant that he had to keep his promise to his lady - that is, Ladybug - to not divulge too many details in order to be sure his secret identity wasn't discovered. She'd beamed in pride at this, since even though he hadn't discovered the correlation between Marinette and Ladybug, he was careful to keep his word to Ladybug when she supposedly wasn't looking.

* * *

Marinette's recollections hopped and skipped through some more of her favorite balcony meetings with _Chat Noir_ as she started to wrap the Christmas present she would give to _Chat_ tonight. There was a mix of happy times and sad times, silly times and serious times, and even times when all they did was coexist in silence. It was a strange dynamic, but she enjoyed those times where she'd just curl up with a book and a teacup while Chat wordlessly tended to the garden or likewise occupied himself with a book Marinette recommended. They didn't happen often, as most times they were too excited to catch each other up on what had transpired since the last time they met - like the time Marinette was bursting at the seams to recount how she'd accidentally used cornstarch instead of baking powder in a bread recipe and ended up with a dense, inedible brick - but when they did, it was usually because _Chat_ wasn't ready to talk about whatever was bothering him, but wanted the comfort of a friend in the interim.

Marinette felt truly blessed to be chosen for such a duty as she'd become quite attached to her kitty through these times, like she was still able to watch over him not just when they were on the field as Ladybug and _Chat Noir_ , but also when he was at his weakest. It seemed like these instances were growing further and further apart in recent weeks, like perhaps their meetings also acted like a healing balm for the soul, and Marinette found herself often beaming with pride that her _Chaton_ had strengthened and matured such that he was better able to handle the stress of his civilian life.

Something else had been stirring inside her as well, something beyond endearment and pride. She had told herself early on that it was just the compassionate, nurturing side of herself that just couldn't turn away someone in need, especially a friend, but as she'd lovingly labored over this Christmas gift, she was forced to confront an uncomfortable feeling she'd been trying to repress. It was a fluttering or twisting feeling in her stomach, a tickle on the neck, a dancing of her heart whenever she found herself absently dwelling on her feline companion that contradicted all the times she told herself she was just helping out a 'friend'.

Feeling that familiar warmth flood her face, as it did every time she came uncomfortably close to facing her feelings, she quickly tied the ribbon on the package and stood to clear her mind, glancing at the clock as she did so. Eyes widening when she saw just how late it had gotten, she hurriedly placed the package on her bed, grabbed her coat, then carefully climbed the ladder with the tray of macaroons and _chocolat chaud_ in hand and made her way onto the balcony.

 _Chat_ had not arrived yet, and Marinette immediately began to fear the worst. He'd never shown up this late before.

* * *

Still frozen in place, doubting himself in every possible way, _Chat_ tried to relax his grip on the gift he'd so carefully wrapped for Marinette. It had been her idea to have their own little Christmas celebration, and he'd nearly said 'no', for he didn't care much for the holiday after his mom had left… But she'd seemed so excited about it, he found himself nodding dumbly before he could think better of it, to think of the consequences. He struggled so much since then trying to find a perfect gift, and even after settling on this one, he knew it was sure to fail, because every gift he'd ever given in his life seemed to fail. Sure, his mother had seemed genuinely pleased with some of his gifts, but it had obviously been a show for his benefit, for what mother would leave their child if they had actually enjoyed their company and their gifts? His father was of course self explanatory - no gift of Adrien's had ever been received well by his father, and was likely considered more of a nuisance than anything else. Then there was Ladybug… He had fallen for her the first time she declared that evil would not triumph, but even after his countless attempts to please her, she would always brush him off and insist on keeping it professional. They'd always made a great team, but he'd come to realize that they were just that: a crime fighting team. There was no room for romance or sentiment.

This was why he was so nervous. He'd come to cherish his friendship with Marinette so much, for she was the only one in his life that had fully accepted him, had been there for him when he needed it, and had always encouraged him to grow. She made him a better person… but what could he possibly offer her? He wrestled with himself for what felt like hours, not wanting to go through with what he was now certain was an inferior gift, but also not wanting to let her down by not showing up after he had agreed to come tonight.

When he saw her familiar silhouette emerge from the hatch, however, he knew he couldn't just turn back. She was waiting for him. She was the only person who ever waited for him; how could he let her down?

Gathering his courage with a deep breath, _Chat_ took his final leaps that landed him on the balcony's guardrail. "Good evening, purr-incess", he greeted, hoping to mask his insecurity by resorting to tactics of punnery, the language of his comfort zone.

He still got weak in the knees every time she beamed at him like that, so as she greeted him with, "Oh good, you're here! I was beginning to worry!", he descended onto more level footing to steady himself.

She didn't have to tell him about the macaroons she'd laid out on the table; he had already caught wind of them with his sensitive feline nose and was already fighting the urge to drool at the prospect. It was a good thing she lived a decent distance from his house; were it not for the exercise of the commute, the sweets he couldn't help but indulge himself in would no doubt threaten his model figure. Aside from the macaroons, there was something else she had mentioned, something he didn't recognize. He was used to this sort of scenario though, living such a sheltered life.

"What did you say this was again?" He asked as he accepted the offered teacup, full of a steaming thick liquid that smelled of chocolate. Was it simply molten chocolate? It certainly looked viscous enough to be.

Marinette seemed truly shocked by this and exclaimed, "You've never had _chocolat chaud_ before!? It's a Christmas tradition in my family, and also several other families, like my friends Alya and Nino. We used to have competitions to see who could drink the most before we had to take a sip of water!"

 _Chat_ couldn't help but smile at this. He couldn't admit to Marinette that he knew them, but he could definitely picture Alya and Nino getting into a ridiculous battle of wills like that. Something told him Alya had probably been the victor more often than not. His smile faltered when his thoughts shifted to his own lack of Christmas traditions. Well, at least lack of Christmas FOOD traditions. Being in the fashion industry, diets in the Agreste household had always been strict, so whenever he had a treat, it was always a rare and special one. He'd had more sweets from Marinette's balcony in a month than he'd had from the Agreste household in his entire life. Treats aside, Christmas left a sour taste in his mouth ever since his mother left. What point was there to holiday festivities if there was no one to share it with? _'But this year you're sharing it with Marinette…'_ he reminded himself, still anxious about the ultimate outcome of the evening, but hopeful that it couldn't be any worse than last year - the year that he spent two nights wandering about the city, envious of everyone's cheer while his father stayed holed up in his office, not even caring that his son was distraught over his first Christmas without his mother.

Noticing that Marinette's eyes were brimming with concern as she searched his own, for she had probably sensed his change in demeanor, _Chat_ flashed her an attempt at his usual winning smile, but he knew it turned out looking more like a grimace, for the concern on her face only grew. With a sigh, he owned up to the truth, "It's just… I've come to dislike Christmas since it's supposed to be when you're celebrating with your family, but ever since my mom left…" He tried to finish the sentence, but the words caught in his throat as it abruptly went dry and he felt the sudden urge to cry. He promptly turned away to hide his face, but felt the warmth of a hand tenderly making contact with his shoulder.

He'd had a whole year to prepare since the emotional turmoil of last Christmas, but he was quickly realizing that it didn't matter how much time had passed; special occasions could make you re-live the pain of a year ago as if it were yesterday. Marinette's hand left his shoulder, and he saw through misty eyes that she was now encircling him within her arms as she embraced him from behind. As she buried her head in his back, he heard her muffled voice whisper, "I'm sorry…"

Her sympathetic words were all it took to send him over the edge. Tears like lonely soldiers marched steadily down each cheek, unaccompanied by any sobs, sniffles, or sharp breaths, yet each carried a wealth of sorrow and pain. He'd never cried in front of her before. Heck, he'd never cried in front of anyone before, but after all the time they'd spent together and the trust they'd built, it just felt so… natural. With each tear that fell, he felt a little lighter somehow, like the tears actually were carrying his worries away.

How long they stayed like that, he didn't know, but while remembering his mother on Christmas was overwhelming painful, something was different from last year, and he quickly realized it was because he had the comfort of a friend…. The comfort of a friend who'd become quite dear to him and the comfort of her hug. It was a strange feeling, unlike the faint memories he had of being comforted by his mother's hug in years long past. There was something distinctly different about Marinette's hug and he'd give anything to find out what it was, as he found it almost intoxicating, like he desperately needed it.

Marinette was the one to break the silence, relaxing her grip and pulling her head away - _Chat_ found himself missing the contact - in order to say, "I can't imagine what it must feel like to spend Christmas without the loved ones you used to, and I'm so sorry I flippantly suggested we have this mini Christmas party here tonight; if I'd known that this was such a hard time for you, I never would've suggested it."

Silently panicking that Marinette was blaming herself, Chat whipped himself around so he was facing her, insisting, "No, I was the one who agreed; I wanted to be with you!"

Suddenly aware of just how close their faces were and only just beginning to realize how many different ways his declaration could be taken, _Chat_ felt his cheeks flush with warmth despite the growing chill of the night. Busying himself with wiping the tears from his cheeks, he tried not to make eye contact until he could completely regain his composure. Regrettably, Marinette took that as a signal to end her embrace, but he was thankful for the handkerchief she pulled from her pocket and offered to him as a result.

Visibly brightening, as though she had just had a brilliant idea to cheer him up, Marinette motioned to the tea table declaring, "Well then, you'll be in for a real treat; your first consumption of _chocolat chaud_! Go ahead and try a sip before it gets cold."

Thankful for her attempts to change his mood, he redirected his attention to the steaming cup. He eyed it skeptically as he slowly raised it to his lips, for as the beverage moved in the cup, it seemed less like water and more like syrup. It's not that he didn't trust Marinette, but he'd also never seen a drink this thick before. He chanced a glance up at the girl in question, but found her gazing eagerly at him; she seemed more keen to see his reaction than to enjoy her own share. This struck a chord in him as a memory of his mother giving him a similar look as he was eating his very first macaroon came to mind. Blinking hard as he reminded himself that this Christmas wasn't about his mother, it was about Marinette, he focused his attention on the scrumptious-smelling drink.

After a moment's hesitation, he decided that the likelihood of this being a prank was too low to be a real concern and he took the plunge. Apparently his reaction was favorable, because as he ravenously gulped the rest of this delicious beverage, she giggled with glee. "I see we have a winner!" she proclaimed, holding up her teacup as though to perform a toast before bringing it to her lips to take a long draw from it. _Chat_ couldn't help but smile as she displayed similar signs of revelry while she drank. His breakdown a few minutes prior became eclipsed by the simple pleasures he now enjoyed as Marinette continued her merry campaign to show him how beautiful Christmas could be. She explained how her family made a wide assortment of Christmas sweets, picked out a tree, decorated the house, and sang Christmas carols, then how they visited their family and friends and all went together to Christmas mass. By the time she'd finished, they had finished every last morsel of macaroon and _chocolat chaud_ , the hour was late, and the pair had begun to stifle the occasional yawn.

Standing to take his leave, _Chat_ announced, "Well I'm sure with all those festivities and how late we've talked, you must be tired, so I should get going."

"Wait! I need to give you your gift first!" Marinette stated, getting up to retrieve a box from the balcony hatch.

Crap. All his reservations and hesitations that had been forgotten during the night's festivities returned. Glancing at the small box still resting on the balcony ledge, he entertained thoughts of withholding it, claiming that he had forgotten it. If nothing else, it would buy him some time to find a more suitable gift and avoid a potentially disappointing end to the night for Marinette. Or maybe not giving her a gift at all would be equally disappointing?

He was drawn out of his thoughts by a gentle prodding; Marinette was handing him a beautifully gift-wrapped package, complete with a bright green ribbon. Taking it in hand, he noted that it was heavier than expected for its size. With a visual cue from his balcony buddy, he unwrapped the parcel to reveal a hand painted flower pot. The scene that Marinette had painted depicted a rooftop garden where ladybugs and black cats frolicked amongst pink, red, and violet flowers. Smiling with delight, he excitedly wrapped Marinette in a hug, ecstatic at the idea that he would get to start his own garden at home. "Wow, thanks! This is perfect!" He exclaimed, too elated to notice her blush forming. By the time he let her go she was quite red in the face, but she effectively distracted him by pointing to the gift box on the ledge. "I d-don't mean to pry, but… is that… for me?"

Well, there was no getting out of it now… So retrieving the box, he hesitantly held it out to her, only now noticing how beet red her complexion was. Unsure how to react, all he could do was watch as she took it from him and proceeded to reveal the present within.

With a small gasp, she marveled, "Oh my goodness, it's beautiful!" With that, the last of his worries melted away. For once, he had succeeded in gift-giving. Heaving a sigh of relief, he couldn't stop himself from admitting, "I'm so glad you like it! To be honest, I was worried sick you wouldn't…"

"Why wouldn't I?" The excited teenager exclaimed, marveling at the exquisite necklace. It was a tasteful design, just a simple silver chain with a charm at the center. What made it so endearing to Marinette was the intricacy of the charm and how perfectly it suited her. The charm depicted a bouquet of flowers, interwoven with vines and leaves, each flower and bud studded with tiny gemstones to give the petals their color. She noted that the vast majority of them were a shade of pink not so unlike her signature color, but there were also white and violet blooms speckled throughout. The longer she looked at it, the more intricate it appeared, and she began to wonder just how much _Chat_ must've spent on this. It wasn't just the price though, she could simply feel how much thought and care went into selecting this gift and how it embodied how much _Chat_ valued her friendship - or was there a chance it had become more?

When she looked up, she noticed _Chat_ was smiling warmly at her, seemingly overjoyed at her reaction. She felt her cheeks tinge again as the familiar presence of butterflies stirred within her once more. These feelings had been increasing in frequency over the past few months and tonight had confirmed things - she'd begun to develop feelings for her feline friend. Once again the conflict between the feelings she had for Adrien and the feelings she had for _Chat_ were at war, and she didn't know how to process it. _Chat_ 's face fell, as though he could sense the shift in Marinette's thoughts, and she began to panic.

"What's wrong, Mari?" _Chat_ asked, voice laced with genuine concern. That certainly didn't help matters, as she was a sucker for caring and empathetic souls. "Did you find something wrong with it?" He prodded again, which only served to frazzle her further. This was the last thing she wanted, making him fret over nothing, especially when he had been so worried about his gift. The poor thing had been through so much and was always so hard on himself, she hadn't meant to add to it!

"No! Of course not!" Marinette protested, unable to stop her usual spastic self from chattering a mile a minute without waiting for her brain to make sense of what she was trying to say, "The fine is perfectly necklace! I-I mean, the perfectly is fine neck-! Ah! No! I meant! I love the lace-neck-! Ahhhh… that is…" Marinette forced herself to breathe, hoping it would calm her down. After a brief pause, she felt like she had reasonably regained control of the situation, but was so ready to escape this situation, she still couldn't slow the speed of her declaration, "I love you! ...It! I love IT!"

Certain that she was perfectly able to light the Seine on fire with the heat of her face alone, Marinette buried her face in her hands, more embarrassed now than she'd ever been in her life, which was quite the accomplishment for her. She couldn't believe how badly she'd messed that whole exchange up and now all she wanted to do was hide, but her brain had completely overloaded and shut down, freezing her in place.

After a few moments, she felt a gentle tug on her wrists. Reluctantly, she separated her middle and ring fingers just a smidge so she could see _Chat_ _Noir_ , who had a look of judgement-free worry in his eyes. He gently whispered, "Marinette, are you alright?"

Stupid cat. It was his fault she felt this way. What made it worse was that just about everything he did made it worse. Vivid memories of all their visits over the past few months flooded her mind - all the times they'd laughed together, vented together, and consoled each other that had brought them to this moment, late Christmas night - or was it early the morning after? - , where he was still concerned with her well-being far above his own. Didn't he care that she'd mistakenly declared her love to him? He probably would be fine if she denied it, insecure eyes shining with some thought along the lines of, _'I don't deserve love anyway'_ , caring more about her feelings than his own. It wouldn't be fair to lie, however, not after he'd come to trust her so completely. But then again it wasn't like she could just come out and say it… again. That would be far to bold! But on the other hand, it wasn't like they were in primary school anymore… why couldn't she be a little bold? The cat was out of the bag, so to speak... She couldn't take it anymore, not when every cell in her body was trembling with this emotion. Without really knowing what she was doing, in one swift, Ladybug-like motion, she had drawn _Chat's_ face to her own and planted a soft, quick kiss to his lips, much like the time she had to cure him from Dark Cupid's arrow.

The kiss was all it took to reboot her brain, and realizing what she had done, she abruptly withdrew, muttered the first words that came to her mind ('S-sorry, Merry Christmas!'), and retreated to her bedroom, locking the hatch behind her and promptly turning off the lights before burying her head in a pillow.

* * *

"What… just happened?" A rather confused _Chat Noir_ asked of no one in particular. It was more an exercise to see if this had all been real. The sound of his voice seemed real, the frozen mist it created seemed real, the weight of the flower pot still in his hand felt real… The tingle of his lips definitely, beyond all doubt, felt real.

Slowly but surely, the shock melted away and was replaced with a mixture of uncertainty and pleasure. Part of him felt like he had betrayed Ladybug, but the more rational side of his brain reassured him that Ladybug had never returned his feelings and that the two had been growing apart lately. On the flip side, there was no denying that something special had been brewing between himself and Marinette, he just, until now, had been clueless as to its true nature. Well actually, he still had many questions as to the true nature given the mixed signals before and after the kiss… Surely it wasn't normal to run away after a kiss? Not that he had any experience to know for sure.

Gradually a smile and general mood of elation grew, and he decided that working through the questions could wait until tomorrow. For now, he would enjoy what was left of the best Christmas day, and certainly the best Christmas gifts, he'd ever been given. To think it had all started a few months ago with a little note that said, 'For you'.

* * *

 **Authors Notes:**

My knowledge of **Parisian Christmas traditions** only comes from the Miraculous Ladybug Christmas musical special and a little Google searching, so my apologies if I represented anything inaccurately. What stuck out to me the most was that the festivities can start on Christmas Eve with a big meal and staying up to go to the midnight church service…. Then they go about celebrating Christmas day similar to the rest of the world, complete with a Christmas dinner and many Christmas treats, and _chocolat chaud_. Thus I figured that since Marinette's parents run a bakery, they'd be swamped with orders to fill leading up to those two days, and then plenty busy making more for themselves as they celebrate on those days. This is why I also made the assumption that if Chat Noir had never run into _Pere Noel_ like it did in the Christmas special, he'd have wandered about Paris for two nights instead of just one.

My knowledge of French is also courtesy of the Google, so feel free to point out any errors I may have made in my story or in the definitions I give below. I used italics throughout the story to distinguish the French words from the normal English. Here are their translations:

 **Chocolat chaud** \- Sort of like hot chocolate, but instead of a cocoa powder base, actual chocolate is used so the resulting beverage is creamier, thicker, and all around more delicious. You should definitely try some sometime.

 **Buche de Noel** \- A chocolate sponge cake in the shape of a Yule log

 **Pere Noel** \- Father Christmas; Santa Claus

I mention throughout the story a lot about **Adrien's Christmas a year ago**. His last Christmas is based on the Miraculous Ladybug Christmas musical special, but I'm only accepting parts of it as canon for this bonus chapter. So, he never met _Pere Noel_ and had hot chocolate, I'm just taking the parts where he's bitter and suffering since it was the first Christmas without his mom and his dad ignored him, where he wandered the city, depressed and lonely. As a side note, since 'For You' is only season 1 canon, this bonus chapter is also only season 1 canon, despite the fact that season 2 has since aired.

Both Marinette's and _Chat's_ presents feature **violet** **flowers**. This is meant to allude to Mrs. Agreste's favorite flower, the gourdon. At least, it's her favorite flower in my universe, as mentioned in chapter one. I have this little head cannon that speculates that Mrs. Agreste actually died, but Mr. Agreste told Adrien that she left them, since he's not ready to accept her death (and hence that's why he's been trying to get the ladybug and cat miraculouses, to revive her). Hence the use of purple flowers here is sort of a small symbol that Mrs. Agreste is still looking over her son and has blessed his budding relationship with Marinette.

A quick note about Marinette's reference to ' **primary school** '. I'm not sure what it's called everywhere else, but in France, it's called 'primary school', whereas in the states, it's called 'elementary school'. My guess is that it's just the US that calls it 'elementary school', 'cause apparently, we like to be different, and that's why we use Fahrenheit, miles, and cups. Perhaps if we sent our kids off to a primary school instead of an elementary school, they'd learn the metric system at an early age so we could all use the same standards. But I digress.

 **Dark Cupid's arrow** refers to the Dark Cupid episode (#10) where Ladybug needs to break Cat Noir free from the enemy's control by giving him a smooch… on the lips (Kudos if anyone got that Marco quote reference just now. On a sidenote, I also tried to sneak in an El Dorado quote for the 'both? Both. both is good' quote, though I had to change it a bit, since I saw that recently. Double kudos if you find that one).

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For updates on this and other stories, behind-the-scenes, Q&A, and general fangirling, check out my tumblr: **zepuka** DOT **tumblr** DOT **com**


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